Timor
by KyosBeads13
Summary: The Timor Hotel seems to offer a beautiful stay for both America and England who are away on business. However as time passes, things turn for the worse as the two find themselves in a hotel with several things straight out of both of their nightmares.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**_ Hello all and welcome! This fic really just came out of nowhere and it's going to be my first horror fic. I have HUGE plans for this and I hope you'll all enjoy the ride. The rating will be M due to extreme language, adult situations concerning sex, and possible graphic content. Take this as a warning please._

**DISCLAIMER FOR THE ENTIRITY OF THIS FANFICTION: **I do not own any characters from Hetalia. None.

**Timor.**

**Chapter one.**

"I still don't believe that this hotel is in your country and you know nothing about it." Looking at a piece of loose leaf paper in his hand, green eyes scanned the sloppy hand writing that massacred the page. "What did you say the name of this place was?"

"The Timor Hotel, I told you Arthur, I got this covered!" Driving with one tanned arm resting on the rolled down window pane, America's right arm remained moving on the steering wheel. The truth was, America barely had the situation under control, England had put him in charge of one little detail of this business meeting and that was the hotel. Forgetting about it until the night before they were supposed to leave, of course all the rooms in the area were booked solid, except for this hotel which seemed to have more vacancies than occupants. Relieved to have dodged a very large bullet, America booked the room for the week with little to no questions asked.

"I believe you've 'got this covered,' Alfred, that's not the issue. The issue is we're on a completely unmarked road and have no idea where this damned hotel even is!" Rolling his window up slightly, England sighed into the fresh spring air that hung in the car lightly. Outside, puffs of fresh pollen swirled throughout the air, collecting in small clumps on the windshield. America shrugged his shoulders and fixed his tee shirt before returning his arm to the window.

"You're worrying too much. The meeting's in two days, we have that long to find this place." The only thing keeping England from glaring at the younger man next to him was the bright sun that streamed steadily in through the driver's side window. At least it was a nice day.

After a little more than a half an hour of driving in a seemingly ending forest, a clearing opened up and a classy hotel stood buried within hundreds of tall trees and weeping willow branches. There was an elegant sign with swirling golden letters welcoming them as they pulled up to the grand structure. A small section of black top seemed to be the only area reserved for parking and America had no qualms about taking the first spot. Swiftly turning the key in the ignition into the off position, the American nation ripped his keys into his palm and jumped out of the car, stretching his arms over his head with a loud yawn. England took his time stepping out into the sun light, squinting ever so slightly before closing the door behind himself and walking towards America.

"I'll unlock the trunk," the older nation stated with an out stretched arm. The other smiled as brightly as ever in the sunlight, his golden locks giving him a halo of color around his face causing England to flush as he looked away. The keys were pressed to his palm and he swiftly turned around to head towards the trunk of the car. As his eyes remained averted, something drew his attention away from his path to the trunk to his surroundings.

Their car was the only car in the lot.

'Odd…' England heard his mind utter before sticking the key into the lock and turning. The trunk popped up and America walked over to lift the heavy cases out of the car. He noticed the elder seemed distracted and looked to him.

"Something up?"

"Ah… Not really. There's just no one else parked here, I thought it seemed a little peculiar."

"Dude, don't worry about it, there's probably just another parking lot somewhere around here. This place seems pretty big." Slamming the trunk back down to closed, he looked around as well. "Or everyone's out for the day, it's still pretty early." England felt his mind at ease with the obvious answer and nodded.

"Yes, of course. Let's go check in." Taking his rolling luggage in his left hand and his smaller bag in his right, England headed towards the front entrance with America in close tow.

The entrance seemed more like the entrance to a southern style home; a wooden porch painted white with several rocking chairs that bobbed back and forth with the warm wind. A porch swing creaked to the left with pillows that looked sun bleached from many seasons out in the bright weather. The only piece out of place was the over the top double glass door panel that lead to the inside lobby. The lobby was decorated with bright and colorful flowers and cherry wood furniture. Illuminated by the large windows that overlooked the porch and a large brass chandelier that hung from the ceiling; the entire space gave off a warm sensation. England walked up to the empty front desk and rang the bell for service.

It was oddly quiet for a hotel, no one was walking through any of the corridors the connected to the large lobby room and no doors were slamming. There were no footsteps coming from the grand stair case nor were there the sounds of bells coming from the elevators. It was just silence.

England nearly jumped out of his skin once a man with a fair complexion walked out from a back room and behind a counter. He looked to be in his middle 30's with a few peppered grey hairs and a stern expression as he pulled out a reservation sheet.

"Name?" He asked in a dull voice as America stepped forward.

"Alfred F. Jones." He stated in his normal chipper volume that echoed off the tile flooring. The man behind the counter seemed un-amused as he looked to the list and checked off Alfred's name. Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a long metal key that looked like the years had been poor to it rather than the usual card-keys the duo had become accustomed to over the years. Alfred took the key in his hand and thanked the front desk clerk before he retreated back in the room he had originated from. "Looks like we're in room 413."

"Then we'll take the elevator…" England said with noticeable apprehension in his voice. The younger didn't seem to notice as he bounded over towards the elevator and pressed the up button, the doors opening almost automatically. The pair stepped inside as the door slid shut on the tiny space. Inside, there were several buttons on the control panel that appeared to be missing or just plain broken except for the floor number four which was written in a grimy black color that was difficult to see in the flickering light. America pressed the button for their floor as the small space began its shaky decent upwards. England pressed himself against the wall behind him and held his breath the entirety of the ride and nearly ran off when the doors slid open again with a loud squeal. "For such a nice looking hotel, that elevator needs some work."

"I guess there has to be something wrong with the place." The blued eyed nation kept up his annoying optimism as the gears of the elevators squealed behind them.

They walked down the hall ways taking in the dim details that were offered. The wall paper was dingy with stains of an unexplained nature and no pictures lining the walls. There were several lights out, plunging them into darkness seemingly every few paces, causing the two to walk with smaller and smaller gaps between them. Perhaps the most unnerving fact were the numbers that lined the walls next to the decrepit doors: In no particular order, they started at the number 333 at one end of the hall and ending with 10 at the other.

Checking his watch, the Englishman sighed.

"Alfred, I don't know what kind of hotel this really is or if you're just doing this as a joke on me but seriously. Where is our bloody room?"

"I don't know, it's gotta be around here somewhere though." Poking his head around another corner to a twisted passageway, he waved his arm, encouraging England to follow him. The hallway had sharp turns but more illumination, eventually leading to room 413. At this point, England half expected the room to come complete with a dead body with how uneasy he felt at this point but was relieved with America pushed the door open. "After you, Iggy!" Not even bothering to correct the idiot holding the door for him, the English nation pushed forward and into the room.

To his surprise, the room was actually very pleasant although a little musty smelling. The wall paper near the door seemed to be peeling away slightly but nothing for cause of immediate concern. America closed the door behind them and launched himself onto the bed (a sort of tradition for when the two shared hotel rooms) and looked straight at England.

"So, whatcha say we break in the bed?" He smiled as England turned bright red and huffed at the suggestion before said nation's suitcase was thrown on top of him.

"Can't you wait until we've at least settled in to be vulgar, prat?"

"I could, but where's the fun in that?" He asked while moving the rather heavy suitcase from his midsection. The two unpacked relatively quickly before sitting back down and deciding what to do from there. "I remember seeing on the website, there's a restaurant here if you wanna grab some food."

"Let's just take the stairs to get back down, I don't trust that elevator anymore." America nodded in agreement and watched as England moved to the wine red curtains across the room. "I'm just going to open the window to get this musty smell out." Thrusting the curtains open, England's stomach was attacked by that needle-poked feeling as the window was boarded shut with a few streams of light pouring in. "A-Alfred, I've been trying to suppress this but I think there's something wrong with this hotel."

"What do you mean?" Gods, he could be so oblivious.

"Did you notice anything off kilter when we checked in?"

"Not really. That dude behind the desk was kind of a creeper but other than that not really."

"That huge pad that he used to check us in… Your name was in the middle of it."

"Yeah so?" The Englishman now fully turned to him with a serious look imprinted on his face.

"Alfred, your name was the only one on that list. The parking lot is empty. There's no sounds coming from anywhere other than us…. I believe we're the only ones in this hotel."

XxXxXxX

_Timor is the Latin root of the word "terror" and can also mean "object causing great fear."  
>See you all next chapter.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _ Thank you all for your support through not only reviews, but alerts as well. I'll do my best to not disappoint. On with the next chapter!_

**Timor.**

**Chapter two.**

Arthur Kirkland was not a fool. He also did not think himself to be naïve enough to consider a hotel haunted just based off of a few creepy details. As much as England loved magic beings and spells, he would not consider ghosts a reality despite the sinking feeling his stomach had the entire way back down to the lobby. The excursion wasn't just a normal trip down a hall way, England could have sworn that the hall way had changed since the last time they had opened their room door. The thought tied his stomach in knots.

Dinner itself had been fine with the exception of the dining hall being completely empty with unnerving piano music playing an out-of-tune lullaby for the full hour. Candle wax caked onto the multiple vacant tables that seemed untouched for years while a man who looked suspiciously like the front desk clerk limped through the maze of tables to bring the two their orders. England was no longer hungry by the time the food was placed in front of him.

Once the duo returned the fourth floor, England's hand gripped tightly onto America's as they returned to their room, no light coming from outside seeing as the sun had set a short while before. Gone were the ribbons of light that were offered by the small sections of un-boarded window in their room and the lighting fixtures only served as a dim piece of mind as England laid still on the bed. He nearly fell off the bed as America threw the bathroom door open with a loud 'bang.'

"Christ, Alfred!" He held his hand to his chest in order to still his slamming heart.

"Chill out old man, don't have a heart attack! You've been all on edge since we got here."

"I told you why and you just brushed it off as no one knowing this place existed!"

"Even when I looked this place up on the internet, there weren't that many comments on it so I bet no one does know about this hotel!"

"You booked a hotel without even doing customer research? What kind of imbecile are you?" Their loud voices bounced into the hallway. Choosing to ignore the impending argument, America walked the rest of the short distance and plopped down on the bed, nearly sending the smaller nation flying off of the mattress a second time.

"I figured that I'd just let us try out a new hotel and be surprised." There were no more words exchanged for a few more moments before America pushed his legs under the covers and turned away from England. "Well, since you know that makes sense, I'm going to bed."

"It's only eleven o'clock. You normally don't even considering going to sleep until around two in the morning!"

"Yeah but there's no TV in here. Night."

Switching the light off on the nightstand, the Englishman found himself blinking off the darkness to the best of his ability but to no avail. As the light was sucked out of the room, his breath became shallow and he felt his pulse racing.

'This is madness,' he thought to himself. 'I've never once believed anything that sounded as if it came out of one of Alfred's movies, there should be no reason as to why I should start now.' Having that thought buried in the back of his mind, he felt his eye lids becoming weighted as his tried his best to curl beneath the scratchy covers as silence filled his ears.

England drifted to the thin place between sleep and consciousness before a sensation startled him back awake. He jolted up while placing a hand over his shoulder and whipping his body over America and turning the bedside lamp back on. The American groaned and rubbed his eyes.

"Gah, Arthur, dude!" He also sat up and stared with his eyes unblocked by his usual spectacles. "What's your deal?"

"I…" He closed his mouth before he was able to finish his sentence. England could swear on the history of his country that he had felt a hand squeeze his shoulder; however that would be the last thing that should be heard by America. The younger couldn't even watch a horror movie without crying and screaming in terror let alone actually hearing the fact that he's basically been placed into one of the same situations. "I just forgot to… Check if I packed my paperwork for the meeting." America stared at him.

"…If you say so. Just check in the morning or something!" Turning the light back off, the younger settled down leaving England in the same empty silence from before. For the first time in the longest time, the former empire put his pride aside and curled up next to America's body, trying his hardest to forget his surroundings.

XxXxXxX

Small dots of light speckled the floor and England's green eyes watched their slight movements over the course of the few hours America spent still snoring away in blissful sleep. His right arm was thrown over England's slim middle and what with the course of events that occurred mere hours before, there was no attempt to move it. No matter how hard the English nation attempted to push himself over the edge of sleep, a chill would run down his spine and render his eyes open for at least another half an hour. It was definitely not a restful night.

Just as England thought he would lose his mind from hearing nothing but snoring and ear-shattering silence, America's breathing became irregular as his blue eyes opened ever so slightly, sparkling just enough to make England feel as relaxed as he could.

"Morning Iggy," he said sleepily. "Sleep good?" Once again, England thought about his words.

"Yes, I slept fine." He lied.

"Good, 'cuz I slept like a freaking rock!" Rolling over, America pushed himself out of bed. "So, you up for the pool? I did read that they have an awesome indoor pool here!"

"Alfred, I don't swim."

"There's a hot tub, I think."

"No."

"Well then stay here while I go swimming!" There was a long pause between the two as England threw the covers off of him with a loud sigh. He wouldn't be left alone in that room.

"No more than an hour and a half."

"You got it!" The younger male stripped off his boxers in favor of digging for a swimsuit in the closet while the Englishman did the same. He hadn't packed a bathing suit himself but knew he couldn't use that as an excuse since America always packed a swimsuit for him despite his protests. The two were changed and moved to the door, and stepped out into the hallway. England half expected a different path from the night before. The corridor was the same twisting path they had taken the night before and England felt his heart steady itself for a moment as he was led to the stair case.

The stench of chlorine hit England's nose as soon as they turned a certain corner on the ground floor, making his breath catch in his throat. America heaved the clear glass door open, the chemical spilling around them and bringing tears to the elder's eyes as they proceeded into the enclosed space. It was no surprise there was no movement throughout the entire facility except for the two nations that walked parallel to the pool's edge to a lineup of wooden chairs to put their towels down. America ripped his tee shirt off and placed his glasses on top of it in favor of walking closer to the pools edge.

The water was a murky blue color and the bottom of the pool was not visible when looking through the water. Strangely enough with no one in the water, there were waves and ripples coming from the middle of the pool; it was only when England looked from the water back to America did he realize the boy was talking to him.

"…So you wanna jump in with me or not?"

"I'll," his eyes were distracted by the ripples occurring more and more in the pool. "Stay in the shallow end, I told you that I don't swim."

"Suit yourself!" In one smooth movement, America kicked his shoes back sloppily towards his chair and made his way towards the twelve foot deep end of the pool. England stood up and pushed the shoes under his chair while taking his own shirt off in an apprehensive manner. America had since dove into the waters and disappeared under them as the elder sat on the edge and dipped his feet into the water. It was more frigid than any water he had ever been in and was effectively covered in goose bumps in a matter of milliseconds.

Just as he thought his body had adjusted, a pair of hands grabbed his ankles and pulled, a loud shriek emanated from England's throat as America emerged laughing from the murky waters.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, BASTARD!" Drawing his legs up to his torso, the Briton attempted to even out his erratic breathing.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN YOUR FACE!" Floating on his back to hold his stomach, America laughed harder than he had before. "I couldn't resist, it was just so easy!" There was a pout plastered on England's face as he slowly put his legs back in the water. "Just jump in, you'll be warm faster."

"I'll get in at my own speed, you brat." He kicked water at America which the other responded to by swimming away in a back stroke, his laughter echoing off the surfaces around them.

England took a deep breath before sliding into the shallow water, the ripples just barely licking his midsection with their chilling grip. His arms instinctively wrapped around himself as he shivered and moved around to get himself used to the feel of the drastic temperature change. One thing that he found very peculiar was America didn't seem to even mind the temperature change, and he would usually be the first one to complain about water being cold.

'Probably all that blubber he has from eating that greasy food of his…' England thought with a smirk. Slipping deeper into the dark waters, the older nation stopped short as he swore he felt something wrap around his legs. His head snapped up, assuming that America had slipped under the water once again and was trying to get him again. He was met with the sight of the younger still floating on his back at the other end of the pool. At the realization, he made a small noise of concern which caught the American's attention.

"Okay Arthur, what's up with you? You're acting really weird." He called over as England felt the sensation again and moved backwards towards the shallow water. Feeling even more desperation tighten his throat he choked out a sentence.

"Alfred, there's something very wrong in this hotel. I don't want to scare you but I really need to say this." Gaining his footing he looked at America hoping he wouldn't be made fun of for what was about to come out. "This is something out of your horror movies. I really honestly believe this hotel is hau—"

"A-ARTHUR!" The island nation disappeared under the water leaving nothing but desperate splashes of water and bubbles to the surface. America tore his arms through the water in order to get across the pool where England was stuck under the water by something that wasn't letting him go. As the younger nation reached where England was last seen, he plunged his hand down and pulled the gasping nation out of the water staring at him through wide eyes and blurry vision. "W-WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO YOU!"

"Something pulled me under! There were hands that I couldn't get off of me!" England clung desperately to America while looking down. "Alfred, this hotel is haunted." At the sound of his words, the American made like a lightning bolt and shot towards the side of the pool, dragging the frightened Englishman with him. Feeling a tightness in his throat, America lifted England out of the pool with him in his left arm while grabbing their possessions with his right. America ran out of the pool room with England still in his arm, making it impossible for either of the two to notice the pool waters becoming eerily still; all waves and ripples stopping as the door to the pool shut closed.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _You all have left me so speechless with all of your feedback and praise. I thank you all so much, it's gotten to the point of where I can't even keep up with thanking you all individually! But know that it really does mean a lot to me and thank you._

_A few of you have concerns about the subject of England not being fearful of ghosts. I will address that now. Cannonly, England has never come across evil spirits, only the playful ones at Japan's house. I was rationalizing his fear in the last chapter as he doesn't believe in the "ghosts" of America's horror films, not ghosts all together. And, of course, if something evil was targeting you, it'd be a little frightening haha. Also, although it hasn't really been apparent in the past two chapters, yes America and England are already in a relationship. That will become apparent this chapter. I hope this clears up some of the confusion._

_Enjoy!_

**Timor.**

**Chapter three.**

"Alfred, please calm down! Hauntings are only serious if you make them that way!"

"It almost drowned you, Arthur." America had all of their luggage strewn on the bed and was throwing things blindly into them, not caring in which they landed.

"We still have to go to the meeting tomorrow."

"We'll stay in the car. I'm not staying in some place that's filled with ghosts!"

"And I'm not staying in a car!" America shot a look at England with that being said. "You're over reacting and this is exactly why I wasn't going to tell you about my feelings!"

"It dragged you under the water, dude! That's something to over react about!" America had stopped grabbing articles of clothing from the closet. "Can't you just use your magic you always say you can do and make them go away!"

"Alfred, you of all people should know that ghosts are completely unaffected by spells and magic."

"…Why?"

"You try controlling a dead person with no physical form, tosser." The English nation crossed his arms over his chest and sat on the bed. Although he was giving quite the theatrical response, England did feel better that he told America just what was going on. He wanted nothing more to run from the hotel screaming after what transpired in the pool, but he decided this was the perfect opportunity to teach America a little courage when it came to the supernatural. "And besides all that, didn't you say that all the hotels in the area are booked?"

"I'll call Mattie and we'll sleep on his floor." Feeling his palm attach to his face, England stood back up and walked over to America, staring directly into his eyes.

"Listen to me, you've watched enough horror films to realize that these occurrences only gain power if you acknowledge them. We're going to get through tonight as if there's nothing out of the ordinary happening and then we'll speak to some of the others to see if there's anything they can help with at the meeting tomorrow." America stared back with a look of amazement as England leaned forward and pecked a light kiss on his cheek. "Please?" Once America's blue eyes pointed away and downward, England knew he had achieved exactly what he needed to.

"Okay, but after what those things tried to do, we're not going anywhere alone." America put on his best hero airs he could muster for the moment and started placing clothing back into the closet.

"Yes, yes of course." Waving his hand at the younger, England couldn't help but smile at how easy it was to persuade America even now.

"Just don't be an ass and try to scare me." The taller of the two said with a light laugh at the end, but still very serious.

"I wouldn't waste my time."

"Good." Partially relieved, America returned the rest of the items to where they had been previously and made his way towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower so, I'll be right out." England, with book already in hand, nodded and said nothing more. America flipped on the light and shut the door, fumbling for a lock that wasn't there. He shrugged and stripped out of his clothing, placing his glasses on the sink's countertop before turning around to the shower.

The state of the shower head made it seem like the contraption hadn't been turned on in years, let alone produce good clean water. Carefully, he turned the hot water on and was relieved when it sprang out immediately, steam instantly filling the room and calming him from his almost constant state of panic. Stepping into the shower, he glared at the curtain. Its dark maroon hue matched the curtains and bedding of the rest of the room but would provide for limited sight into the bathroom once shut. America was smart, he knew how horror movies worked and he wouldn't be caught dead (or more to the point alive) by a ghost in the shower curtain.

Actually showering with the curtain open was a completely different story, water spilled onto the dingy tile flooring of the bathroom, pooling in slight indentations and channeling through the edges of the cracked squares. Sighing, America pulled the curtain about half way closed so he could peek around the room every so often. While washing his hair, he hated that he had to have his back to a blank space of the shower, now feeling as if anything and everything in the world was watching him…

With that feeling intact throughout his entire shower, America finished washing as quickly as possible and turned the water off. He paused for a moment, just listening to the nothingness that was left and proceeded to exit the tub.

His feet splashed into the freezing water on the floor causing him to inhale suddenly while grabbing for a towel. He wrapped it around his waist before putting his steam laced lenses back on his nose and reached for the door handle.

The door wouldn't open.

"What the…" Turning the handle both ways, America stared the door down. "…Iggy did you put something in front of the door?" He called with a raised voice that bounced along the surfaces of the bathroom and back to him.

"Of course not, why the hell would I do something like that?" The English nation called back while never once looking up from his book.

"The door is locked!"

"So unlock it, you idiot!"

"There's no lock on the door!" America called while grabbing the handle once again. Knowing his strength, he could easily just tear the door knob from the door and be done with it, but England would definitely not be happy.

"What do you mean there's no lock on the door? Just open it then!"

"I CAN'T." Panic started to arise in the younger's throat as he jerked the handle as hard as he could.

"Hold on, hold on, don't break the bloody thing." Placing his book down on the bed, England crossed to the bathroom and put a hand on the door handle and tried to push down on it with no luck. "Let go for a minute!" America followed his instruction and removed his hand as England still attempted to budge the door knob. "Are you deaf, I said let go!"

"I DID LET GO!"

"Then I don't know how to get you out of there!" There was silence coming from both ends for a second.

"I hate this hotel." America said while letting his head fall against the wood in front of him.

"Did you learn next time to take the time to do the research?"

"Can you get me out of here before you start to lecture me?" Right when his mouth closed, the lights of the bathroom shut off and America felt himself loose his breath.

"Fine, but it'll be worse when you do get out here!"

"Iggy…" America whispered against the door while staying completely devoid of all movement. "I-Iggy."

"What?"

"Get. Me. Out. Of. Here."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Get away from the door!"

"W-What, why would I do that?" As if to test it, England did in fact step out of the way and only just in time as America broke the door off its hinges and stepped out. England looked from the door to the panting American in front of him with wide eyes that quickly turned venomous. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!"

"Unless the power went out in the entire room, there was something in there fucking with the lights!" America pointed to the dark bathroom where steam was now pouring from. England looked from America to the bathroom. "It's in our room, Arthur!"

"Okay, okay, just calm yourself. If you keep up the attitude that it can't hurt you then it won't." America stared at him like he had another head on his shoulder and England sighed. "We'll talk to your brother tomorrow."

"Fine, but for right now, I'm not staying here. Can we go out front on the porch or something?" Looking over at the window as if to see out of it, England nodded and retrieved his book while America moved to pick up some clothing. Hastily throwing the articles on, America headed for the door. "And if this door doesn't open, I'm jumping out the window." England chuckled slightly in his throat and grabbed their key from the nightstand.

XxXxXxX

Nothing was being said from either of the two nations who were lying in bed. England was finishing up his book while America lay on his side and stared at the wall. If he watched the wall long enough, he swore that the dizzying patterns of the flowered walls began to move causing him to shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again slowly. Flipping the last page of his book, England placed it aside with a content stretch of his arms before looking over to America.

"If this is how you react without television, I should try removing it when we get home. I can get used to you being this quiet."

"Ha ha." America said with a roll of his eyes before turning around to face the other. "I want it to be tomorrow already."

"Well, you're at least dealing with being in a haunted hotel better than I expected."

"Only because I have to protect you from their evil ghosts."

"…Right." Sliding down next to the younger, England leaned in for a quick kiss and pulled back with a smile. America's eyes shifted to England's as his hands wrapped around the slim body next to him and pulled him back in for another longer kiss in which the two found themselves forgetting their surroundings thoroughly if not completely. Eventually, England moved himself to be on top of America as their kissed deepened with more tongue than lips, England's hands moving down to remove America's pants.

"WOAH, WAIT!" America pulled back and pushed England to the other side of the bed, leaving the elder very confused and more peeved.

"WAIT WHAT!"

"WE CAN'T DO IT."

"…AND WHY THE HELL NOT?"

"DUDE, IF YOU HAVE SEX IN A HORROR FILM YOU'LL DIE WITHOUT A QUESTION! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!"

"…" England stared at the boy long and hard. "Please tell me you're not serious, Alfred." The other's unwavering stare confirmed that he was, in fact, quite serious. "Fine. Whatever, we'll just go to sleep then and listen to things that go bump in the night, sound good to you?" America still said nothing as England 'hmphed' and plopped back down on the bed. "I'm going to sleep. Set the alarm, please." America took his time moving and setting the alarm for as early as they would need to get up for the meeting. He battled with himself trying to decide whether or not to keep the lights on when in one movement, he turned them off and settled into the covers with no movement. Tonight would be a difficult night to get through.

XxXxXxX

"Mathieu, try them again, they're more than two hours late." France pinched the bridge of his nose while mumbling to himself about irresponsible Americans and how it would rub off on them all.

"Alfred's phone is off. I… I can't get through. And he hasn't answered any of my texts either which is strange." The Canadian nation stared out the window as he once again pressed the call button when his brother's name was highlighted.

"_Hey there! You've reached the phone of the one and only hero, Alfred F. Jones. I'm probably out saving the day so leave me a message and I'll get ba-"_ Canada hung up the phone and sighed heavily.

'Al, whatever's going on with you, it'd better be a good excuse.'


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**_ Hello all! Glad to see you're all still enjoying. For some reason, the review reply button is broken and I can't reply to you guys! :( I definitely read all of your reviews, and every single one makes me smile, thank you all for your support._

**Timor.**

**Chapter four.**

England woke with a start having no perception of how much time had unknowingly passed but felt something was definitely awry. Sitting up, he looked over America's sleeping form to the alarm clock to see it blinking steadily at 7:23 am. Jolting his entire body, he lunged for America's phone that sat next to his glasses and stared at the digital clock.

11:06 am. The meeting had started at 8:00.

"Alfred! I told you to set the alarm clock you dolt!" England shoved at the body next to him.

"Iggy… Chill. I set it for six-thirty. Go back to bed."

"It's eleven-bloody-o-clock and you missed hosting your own meeting." Holding the phone in his face, England rubbed his eyes in annoyance. America blinked a few times before grabbing the phone from England, unlocking it and seeing several messages from Canada littering the screen.

"Shit." The small symbol in the corner of his phone alerted him of his voice mail as he called it immediately. Putting it on speaker, the American nation let the messages play through.

"_Al, it's Matt. Where are you? The meeting starts in a half hour. We can't start without you here._"

"_Al, you're an hour late. It's normal for you but not for Arthur. Please hurry?_"

"_Alfred, are you okay? Ludwig rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow morning. But no one's heard anything from you since you left your house. Call me back, okay?_"

The voice mails ended and America hung up to check the plethora of text messages he had also received holding among the same lines. England stared at the phone. How had he not heard the phone going off in the middle of the night? England didn't have the best sleeping habits in the world and admittedly was not a heavy sleeper; surely he would have heard the phone vibrate at least.

The blue-eyed nation lifted the phone to his ear in attempts to call his brother back and waited for a few beats before pulling the object back and examining it. Once his brief scan of phone was done, he dialed again.

"I can't get through…"

"Do you have any service?"

"Full service."

"Let me see that thing." Taking the phone from America, he scrolled through the contacts and called Canada as well, achieving the same results as the other and sighed. "Try using the hotel phone?" The younger nodded while reaching for his spectacles then for the phone. Dialing the number he knew by heart, he waited.

"…Nope."

"This is ridiculous."

"Mattie sent me the address of where he's staying, you wanna just drive there? It's like, an hour away."

"We didn't ask him if he'd be willing to let us stay, Alfred. It's rude to just show up."

"But the ghosts are _obviously_ messing with stuff and making us miss the meeting. CAN WE JUST LEAVE NOW!" Throwing the covers off his legs, America stood up.

"The power probably just went out last night!"

"Then why isn't my cell phone working, Mr. Smarty-butt?"

"…"

"You want me to pack your bag too?" The younger asked with a pleasant smile.

"I'll take care of the packing. You just… Bring the car around to the front steps."

"Fine by me!" America crossed the room and grabbed his keys from the nightstand as well as the room key, placing both in his pocket and strutting to the door.

"I'll check us out on the way out to the car."

"Gotcha," Turning the door knob, the younger nation jammed his hands in his pockets, feeling the metal of the keys shifting under his palm while walking down the hallway. The room door slammed behind him and gave him a bit of a start as his blue eyes darted back and forth as well as over his shoulder as he moved through the disturbing corridor. In attempts to kill the high pitched silence that tickled his ears, a light tune began to fall from America's lips in a whistle which made it easier to walk towards the stairs. Pushing the heavy metal door open to the stair case, America's whistling bounced off the empty walls creating eerie harmonies as he descended down the stairs to the front lobby. The tune stopped as he was greeted by the out of place lobby, seeing for the first time the dark storm clouds that covered the sky above out of the front windows.

America noticed that the front desk clerk was standing at his desk, not seeming to be doing anything productive. He could almost feel the other man's eyes following him to the door and increased his pace to walk out into the humid air. Sighing, the American nation pulled his key ring out of his pocket and walked up to his car that was still untouched from the days prior. Pulling out the familiar key, America stuck it in the key hole and turned, a bit surprised when the door didn't unlock.

Turning the key both ways, he watched the lock as it remained unmoved before removing the key and repeating the motion, twisting it back and forth.

"…This is definitely the key." Just to be sure, he tried the other keys on the ring and they all either didn't fit or wouldn't turn; America was getting frustrated and a little nervous. "I bet those stupid ghosts did this. They just want to keep me here and haunt me and wait until I'm not paying attention and-" Not bothering to finish his sentence, the American nation nearly sprinted back to the lobby where England stood with their bags at his feet.

"Alfred, I need the room key." He said while approaching the front desk.

"My car key won't work." America said shooting the clerk a sharp glare. Not even pausing to look at either of them, the clerk stood up.

"I can call a taxi." As he moved for the phone, his limp became apparent as a shaking hand reached out for the phone. There was silence between the trio before the phone was hung up and the clerk returned his eyes to his desk. "It appears the phones are not working. I'm afraid you can't leave." His voice was scratchy and very airy, giving the sound a back chilling tone.

"Like hell I can't leave. Tell these ghosts to stop messing with us!" America demanded while taking a few steps closer. Although the clerk did not look up, there was a noticeable difference in his facial expression.

"Ghosts?" The question trailed off.

"I've seen movies like this before, I know you're the big mastermind behind all this!"

"Alfred!"

"Am I now?" The clerk smiled a rotten smile towards the desk before his head slowly pulled up, showing his dark and sunken eyes. America swallowed audibly and recoiled, England not saying anything out of shock over the other's outburst.

"Y-Yeah, you are." The air was thick before England spoke up finally.

"Are there any other phones that we may use to place a call?"

"No." The answer was blunt and full of malice.

"Then is there any telling as to when the phones will be working again?"

"_No_." The clerk seemed to be getting flustered and angrier. America no longer wanted to be in the situation and grabbed all of their bags, moving towards the stair case, refusing to take his eyes off the emptiness of the pair that stared at him.

"Come on, Iggy. We're going back upstairs."

"Are you sure?" He asked following the younger. He received only a nod.

"Good decision. It will be a pleasure to serve you further." The clerk finally broke eye contact with America to limp back to the room behind him as the blue-eyed nation took the opportunity to stomp up the stairs with England in close tow.

"You mind explaining to me what the hell that was all about? You startled him!"

"I didn't do anything! I just called him out on things! And you saw the way he reacted, you know everything I said was right!"

"That's ridiculous. And even if it was the truth, why would you aggravate him further?"

"Because, it's war now, Arthur."

"'War'? What exactly do you mean by 'war?'"

"These ghosts have been screwing with us since we got here. So let's screw with them and make them mad!"

"…I fail to see your logic, Alfred."

"Once they're mad, we can fight them for good!"

"You sound like an imbecile. You've never been this confident when it came to ghosts before, what's the occasion?"

"Revenge, Iggy! Imagine the look on their faces when we beat them and drive them out of here! Maybe we can even take over this hotel on our own or something like that!" Slapping a hand to his face, England shook his head. He could feel his brain cells taking the long dive out of his ear.

"Whatever. What exactly do you have planned for this revenge of yours?"

"Well, things that make you a shoo-in for a ghost attack are three major things in horror movies always!" Now outside their room door, America put their bags down and counted on his fingers. "Being blonde, we both got that covered, drinking alcohol, and having sex."

"Okay…" Putting a hand on his hip, England shook his head. "We'll take care of whatever this plan is later, Alfred. Right now, I'd rather just get in contact with your brother. Anyone for that matter, try reaching the Frog as well. Just try to contact someone."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do it later." America picked the bags up and pushed the door open with his bottom, the key still in the key hole. "Right now, I want you to take the booze you keep in your suitcase out and start drinking."

"H-HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?"

"Iggy, come on, it's no big secret that half of your suitcase is booze."

"Two bottles is hardly half of my suit case, brat!"

"Okay fine, but that's still more than I bring."

"You don't bring any." England said in a low voice while shutting the door behind him. America had flung the suitcase onto the bed and was now digging through it, disrupting the neatly folded clothing. "Alfred, stop it! I can get it myself!"

"Here!" He announced holding up an only slightly emptied gin bottle. "Go get a cup and start." Making sure the top was tight, America tossed the bottle to England who caught it with a glare.

"This has to be the biggest load of bullshit he's ever come up with." England scoffed to himself while grabbing one of the two glasses on the bathroom sink. Checking to make sure it was indeed clean, he poured himself a glass and sighed. "I don't suppose there's an ice machine anywhere, right?"

"I don't think so."

"Of course not." Bringing the glass to his lips, the warm liquid slid down his throat as he watched America prepare random objects around the room like a small child collecting items to build a fort in the living room. After a few minutes, he clapped his hands together.

"And now we wait until tonight to really piss them off!"

"Lovely." Kicking his feet up on the bed, England got comfortable, it was going to be a long night.

XxXxXxX

America refused to go down to the restaurant in the lobby for dinner saying it would tamper with the plan and instead made a sad meal for the two out of the plethora of snacks he had in his suit case. While England was indeed being generous in going along with the younger nation's ridiculous plans, he merely wanted to stay in the room to continue trying to call the other nations and alert them of their current situation. Each time only led to more frustration and shorter tempers with the phone. Text messages from Canada continued to pour in on an hourly basis until it got to a very late hour and he gave up with a simple "_Al, whatever's going on, be safe. I'm going to your house tomorrow to make sure you're not there. Night._"

England's head was swimming from the alcohol that America continued to pour him and laid in bed curled under the covers. America stared at the ceiling before turning over to England's back and pushing himself up onto his arms.

"Iggy, there's still something else we have to do to lure out the ghosts."

"Belt up, I'm not shagging just because you want to lure out bloody ghosts." He partially slurred out in a daze while keeping his eyes closed.

"Aw come on, you wanted to last night!" America pulled England on his back before placing himself down on top of the smaller man with a smile.

"Get offa' me, Alfred." He said in a warning tone.

"Or else what?" The American continued to smile.

"Or else I'm going to..." His words stopped as America began peppering kisses along his cheek bones and jaw line. "I'm going to… Oh fuck it." Pulling America by the chin to his lips, England took domination of the kiss into his own hands as the younger's fingers roamed up and under the Englishman's shirt. Pushing the covers off of himself, England shimmied the both of them out of their clothes while America went to work on England's neck, sucking and biting ever so slightly.

Not wanting to be marked up for the meeting the next day, England made a noise before leaning up to capture America's lips on his own for a moment or two before the younger began roaming again. He settled on kissing the shell of England's ear, sending shivers down his spine and his hips upward to meet America's. America smiled against the other's pale skin and hovered over the already abused lips of the elder while reaching down into the suitcase next to the bed for the small bottle in the corner of England's bag. Retrieving it, he set back to work, now kissing under England's ear lobe while he hissed from the intrusion of America's fingers.

With England's legs surrounding his torso, the blue-eyed nation pulled back and placed a curt kiss on the other's nose while slipping his fingers out and replacing them with himself but pausing first.

"R-ready?"

"Yes, yes, you don't have to treat me like a virgin, Alfred!" England said almost breathless as America pushed the rest of the way into him. Thick eyebrows knit together in a slight grimace as the younger leaned up to place a kiss on England's forehead before drawing his hips back and pushing back in more quickly. Parting his lips slightly, a small noise escaped England's lips which in turn fueled the desire pooling in America's stomach before he thrust his hips again and again, gaining more noises from the one under him.

The room was echoing with the sounds of the heavy pants from America and the moans from England; he was always so much more vocal with a little alcohol in his system. Feeling his end drawing near, England began pushing back harder and harder against the American nation above him, now drawing noise from him as well. Just as England felt himself nearing his peak, all the movement stopped from America as he stared around the room, almost as if he was listening to someone speak.

"Al..Alfred, what the bleeding fuck are you stopping for! MOVE!"

"Arthur shush for a second."

"I most certainly will not, you can't just sto-" An odd noise came to his ear that was strangely reminiscent of nails running across the wall behind them. It started on the far side of the room and slowly traveled to the nightstand on the other side of the bed.

"Arthur?"

"Y-Yes?"

"I-I… Think we pissed off the ghosts." As soon as America uttered his sentence, the lamp hovered from the table and smashed against the wall across the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Timor.**

**Chapter Five.**

"So, what's the next step in your plan to aggravate these ghosts?" England spat with his knees drawn up to his chest in the small enclosed space. America peeked outside of the sliding closet door, no more light being let in than there already was in the space.

"Shh, I'm thinking." With his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, England could make out the American's form opposite himself: short lamp in his hand with the lamp shade as some kind of helmet. "Since we lured the ghosts out we just have to beat them up now!"

"Idiot." The Englishman scoffed while crossing his arms over his still bare legs. 'Beating the ghosts' would have been simpler had America not grabbed England and barricaded them into the closet. A moment of heavy silence filled the room and America thrust the closet door open with a sudden heave, standing up and walking out.

"I think whatever was in here is uh… Gone."

"Lovely. I suppose that's all according to your plan?"

"…Sure." Taking a few steps forward, America hissed and picked up his foot in the hand that was not occupied by the lamp. "Arthur, hang on. There's broken glass everywhere." Moving to his right, America felt the wall for an outlet before plugging in the lamp in his hand. The switch was pushed on and blinding yellow light spilled onto the corners of the room, England's eyes squinting as he looked around. Broken glass and ceramics littered the carpeting, the vases that decorated the tables now only sharp reminders on the floor of the shape they once possessed. The two barely recognizable photos that were hanging over the bed had the glass shattered out of them, littering the messy bedding with shimmering crystals.

England carefully stepped through the debris at his feet and over to America, taking the lamp out of his hand and smacking the lamp shade off him to join the rest of the mess on the floor. He pulled the cord slightly around the corner near the bathroom door where the lamp light was reflected into his eyes at dangerous angles. Shattered pieces of mirror showed him many small pictures of himself as he stepped around the pile to shine the light into the bathroom itself. All the glasses that had been sat on the sink were also shattered, and England leaned back against the wall.

"Good Lord."

"They wrecked my phone."

"What?"

"I don't know what time it is, now the clock is messed up."

"Fucking…" Walking across the room to take the phone, England saw he spoke the truth. "Well, what do we do? Put those horror movies of yours to work."

"Yeah, about that…"

"What're you talking about?" England narrowed his eyes at the younger.

"Most of the people in the horror movies die. I don't know if you want to follow them." America smiled nervously while England smacked him on the back of the head.

"Well, now you've gone and upset them and we're stuck here with no way out. Fantastic."

"At least a little bit of my plan worked out!"

"What're you talking about? I hardly consider _this_ 'working out'!" England threw his arms out in reference to the room.

"Buuuuut, I did find out that the front desk dude is the one behind all this. Because as soon as I pissed him off, all this bad stuff kicked in worse!" Proud of himself, America crossed the perilous room to get his boxers. Shaking the glass from them, he slid his legs into them and pulled upwards. "And now we can go down stairs and laugh at him!" England stared at him for a minute.

"What is that going to accomplish?"

"…I dunno. But I just really don't want to be in this room anymore if the ghosts are coming back!" Now seeing the waver in America' grin, the elder moved towards the window and peeked out of a small space between two of the wooden planks.

"I can see sunlight through the clouds. It's almost dawn," England said stepping back. "Perhaps when it's completely light out we should try to get into your car again and get to the meeting."

"If we last that long, sure."

XxXxXxX

Canada drove through the familiar streets, trying to keep his wits about him. It had been quite a long time since anyone had heard from his brother or from England and he was beginning to get worried. He left his hotel room a half hour prior after not being able to reach even America's voice mail. He waited and waited and the beep never came. When he sent text messages, they never sent. Something was definitely wrong.

Pulling into America's empty driveway, Canada became even more concerned with the possibility that they definitely left but the duo never made it to their hotel…

'No,' The Canadian asserted while stepping out of his car. 'Don't think like that. Al would never…' The thought trailed off as he made his way up the stairs and to the front door, using the gaudy American flag painted key that his brother had given him to unlock the door. Pushing it open, he was left with nothing unusual. Soda cans sat on the coffee table as well as an empty bag of chips next to a game controller that blinked while trying to find signal. Poking his head around, Canada saw nothing that would be of any help on either the dining room table or the kitchen counter.

Turning the corner, Canada walked down the hall way to America's office and pushed the slightly opened door inward, looking around at the messy desk for anything. He took a seat in the too-puffy computer chair and started searching through document after document of anything that could give him a lead but to no avail. Sighing, he put his fist down on the table, the mouse moving slightly from the position it was in and bringing the large computer monitor to life.

Looking to the desktop that sported a cluster of super heroes in various positions, Canada laid his hand over the mouse and moved it down to the bottom tool bar and hovered over it. Sure enough, America had left an internet browser open. Sighing to himself, the Canadian clicked the down arrow on the internet history bar and was met with just what he was looking for.

"Alright Al, your carelessness actually paid off for once." He grabbed a piece of scrap paper and started scribbling.

XxXxXxX

"I do not want to stay in this hazard of a room any longer! Just go down to the front desk and ask for a new room!" England was getting huffier by the minute (at least America _thought_ it was a minute, without a working clock he really had no idea) and was now refusing to stay in the room. Cuts now littered the pale skin of his feet and lower legs from just trying to maneuver himself around the room, and England was more than fed up. America only groaned.

"What happened to just sticking it out until someone comes to get us!"

"That was before I realized that I can't even sit in the bed without gaining a piece of glass in my arse!"

"You're kinky, you should be able to deal with it," The younger muttered under his breath while grabbing the hotel room key. "I just don't want to see that creepy hotel guy after what happened last night."

"Well, that's just something you're going to have to deal with. I'm sure as hell not. You were the bastard who wanted to rub this whole thing in his face a few hours previous." England continued to pack their belongings up for the final time and America grabbed the key off the bed, only barely escaping a very treacherous looking piece of ceramic. Heading for the door, he opened it quickly and waited until he heard it slam behind him before moving down the hallway slowly.

Really not wanting to make the (in his mind) very long excursion to the front desk, America's blue eyes traveled to his left where a door very similar to his room's now stood. He stopped in front of it and, almost out of curiosity, pushed the key into the key hole and turned. Surprisingly enough, the door creaked open, knotting his stomach at the thought of anyone with the same key being able to access their own room. Walking back up the hallway, the American nation knocked on the door which was answered after a few beats by England.

"Got us a new room." America pointed down the hall to the next door.

"That was quick. Now how terrible was facing the front desk clerk?" The elder of the two pulled the suitcases through the pieces of their room which created sharp clinking noises followed by the slam of the door.

"Not too bad considering I didn't even have to go downstairs."

"…Then how did you…?"

"Apparently these keys work for all the rooms in the hotel." England's face paled. "Well, hopefully the ghosts don't get smart and follow us."

"If you're hopeful of that, then don't tempt them this time." Pushing the door open to the new room, England walked in and turned the light on, a similar set up to their previous room meeting their eyes. The only major difference was the window was not boarded up, it was missing. The cloudy sky outside shedding enough light to expose the obvious water damage on the dingy carpet.

"Well, this is _so_ much better."

"Hush," England said placing the bags down next to the bed. "Just take your suit and get ready. We'll walk down to the main road and try to flag someone down and borrow a phone."

"Walk? In our suits? Dude, it's freaking hot outside!"

"We have to do something, Alfred." England handed the American his familiar tan suit. His eyes moved to the bathroom in suggestion as the other sighed. "At least it looks like the clouds are covering most of the sun."

"Fine, I'll be ready soon." Walking into the bathroom, America tried his hardest not to think about the last time he was alone in the shower and the incidents that followed. He washed his face and slipped his suit on, fixing his tie while staring intently back at his reflection and trying to make himself presentable. Happy with his clothing, he ran a hand through his hair to straighten it, Nantucket still sticking up proudly at the part in his bangs, and reached for his glasses which clattered to the floor. Mumbling a curse, America bent down to grasp them and put them on his face.

Going to take one last look in the mirror, his heart stopped as his reflection stared back at him, not matching the current position he held. Almost more disturbing, the reflection did not have glasses on him. America moved his arms slowly and bit by bit, the reflection not bothering to follow him. Deciding to stay no longer, he tried to move for the door but couldn't help but continue to look at the reflection in the mirror. Its lips began to curl upwards into a smile and almost faster than America could react, the reflection wound its hand back and slammed its fist into the glass of the mirror, the pieces raining down on the sink and the floor with a few shooting back towards him.

America had stumbled back into the shower, yanking the curtain down under his weight as England ran into the bathroom, thrusting the door open and staring wide eyed at the young nation as his chest heaved in uneven breaths.

"What the hell did you do!"

"There was a me in the mirror! It moved and it… It punched out the glass and it…" America was pointing to the blank brown space on the wall where the mirror once belonged. England stared back and forth from the floor to America, a small cut under his right eye leaking a small stream of blood down his cheek and suddenly felt the same choked feeling he had felt the first night they had arrived. The glass crunched under his dress shoes as he walked further into the tiny room and crouched down to the floor. Squinting at the small slivers, he could make out many tiny reflections of America in each piece, keeping up a rather deranged look as it swayed back and forth. Flying back, England swallowed heavily and took a deep breath.

He had had enough.

"Alfred, grab the bags, we're going downstairs and we're getting out of here for good."

"But what about the dude at the-"

"I don't care. I'm getting to the bottom of this no matter whom or what stands in my way." As if to prove his point, England stomped out of the bathroom and through the room door. Now alone, America scrambled to his feet and did as England requested by grabbing the bags, fleeing the room without closing the door. As he hurried after the elder down the hall, he heard a door slam behind him and for a brief second actually considered turning around… But if there's one thing his horror films taught him, it was never explore a strange sound, no matter how loud it may be.


End file.
